The brick home in the Georgian-Federalist style was built near the Navy Yard, an easy march from the Capitol. Every commandant since it was completed in 1806 has lived there, in what is thought to be oldest continually occupied building in Washington.

Amos moved in after a seven-month, $4.1 million renovation and structural overhaul finished in May 2011, just a few months before an earthquake shook the capital.

Along with his family photographs, the home is filled with antiques. The sofa that Brig. Gen. Archibald Henderson died on in 1859 had to be moved out to accommodate 14 Christmas trees and the guests for the serenade.

But the ghost of Henderson, the “grand old man of the Marine Corps,” is said to remain. His portrait reportedly fell off the wall when it was announced over dinner that women would be allowed into the Corps.

Portraits of every commandant except two adorn the walls. Amos’ will be installed when his tour as commandant ends. The other missing portrait belongs to Lt. Col. Anthony Gale, the fourth Marine to lead the Corps, and the only one to be fired.

Gale killed a Navy lieutenant who mistreated a Marine sentry, defending the Corps’ honor in a duel. That wasn’t what got him sacked, it was public drunkenness, scurrilous statements and other crimes. Henderson replaced him and served as commandant for 39 years, becoming the first to ascend to the rank of general.

A tiny Marine uniform that Carl Mundy Jr. asked his mother to make for him when he was a boy hangs on the wall of a small room decorated year-round for Christmas. Mundy went on to become general and commandant.

“Sometimes you write your own history,” remarked Gunnery Sgt. Damon Davoren, a docent at the home.

In the music room, a Tiffany dragonfly lamp worth half a million dollars stands next to a baby grand piano. Items on display belonging to John Philip Sousa, the 19th century composer and former conductor of the Marine Band, include his spectacles, baton and flask.

After the serenade, Amos ordered the band director to “splice the main brace,” or take a swig of grog with him from their mugs as tradition dictates. The euphemism among the sea services arose from celebratory drinking after emergency rigging repairs on naval vessels in battle.

With their toast, the Corps was ready — like the Marines who manned the masts of Navy ships during the Revolutionary War — for the next round of combat.